A Battle With No Victor
by Artistic-Resonance
Summary: Wee Arthur's been taken by the Roman Empire, and his brothers are torn in the isles of Britain. However, Rome wants for Arthur to defeat his eldest brother. Will he be able to do it, or will brotherly love overcome the adversity? Rated K for some minor language.


**Bonjour! Meagan here with a little author's note. I haven't uploaded anything in quite awhile, so I decided to upload this. I love writing about the Kirkland brothers and thinking about their complexities, so here's a little something. I wrote this back on February 10th, so I've improved my writing just a tad. Also, there is Latin in this story, seeing as the Romans invaded Britain and all that jazz. The translations will be at the bottom!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **~Meg**

* * *

I never thought a day like this would come— a day where I would have to fight my own little brother. However, it came, and I felt like the grass was pulling at my feet to stop me; even the wind that swept through the isles we called home seemed to be pushing me back, telling me to retreat before it began. But see, I had no choice. Even if I wanted to turn back and follow the swift gusts of air, it was my duty. My people were depending on me, and I couldn't let them down.

"Allistor, yer really goin' to do it?" Connor had asked me earlier that morning. "Aye, ah have to." I sighed. "But ah dinnae want to."

"Then don't. You do naw have to." Piped up a small voice, causing my emerald eyes to focus upon my other younger brother, Dylan. "Ye can't, he's under the rule of these Romans! You can't…"

I felt a rage boiling in my chest, but it was not at the words of my siblings. Instead, it was at the situation, which was going to put me up against one of the people I loved the most in the whole world. Why did that damn empire have to come over to our home and hurt us?

"Ah have tae go." I breathed out, grabbing my sword that I had made with my own two hands, as well as the bow that took me months to craft perfectly. In the hard wood there were many patterns, ones with infinite loops and others with just writing in Gaelic.

 _"Awwie! Ah wanna shoot da bow!"_

 _"Awright, Artie, just don't shoot it at anyone, okay?"_

 _"Aye aye! Look a' me! I'm a hunter! Awwie, look at me!"_

Memories began flooding my mind, and I quickly distracted myself. I couldn't let my emotions dictate me today.

The whole trek to the location was miserable, and the rain beat down on my men and I as we progressed. We were going to the wall that the Romans were trying to build to separate us and keep us from my brother's land, and we were planning to attack. Well, the leader of my people was… I was just simply someone who had to follow and support whatever decision was made.

We reached the wall that was under construction, spotting some of the Romans in the distance. Lucky for us, this wall was by some trees, so we hid in them to observe the slaves they had building the wall.

Now it was just a matter of waiting.

…

 _"Arthurus_? _Arthurus_ , what's wrong?" A voice rang out, snapping me back to reality. I felt something. It was a disturbance on my territory, and it felt familiar…

 _"Furcifer… Caledonia! Est Caledonia, meus dominus."_ I replied to my superior, speaking his tongue to him, which was now seeming to be my own. _"Sunt Caledonia et virum eorum."_

"By the gods, what do those heathens want? Damn them all, damn those Celts!"

I felt rage boiling in my blood, and I grabbed the man's wrist angrily. "I may be under your rule, but that does not mean you get to disrespect the people of the isles."

My master scoffed and forcefully threw me off of him, the swing sending me to the ground in a flurry of my own tunic and cloak. "Be gone, small one! Go to the borders and defend us! Defend all of Britannia from your brother!"

I felt a lump in my throat at that familiar name, and realised something that was horrible, which was that I was their Britannia. They killed my mother, and now I was to be her successor in a sense, but this was not what I wanted. I did not want to live here with these Romans, nor did I want to fight my brother. No matter what I wanted, however, I must do as I am told.

"Yes sir…" I breathed out, picking myself up off the ground and regaining my composure. "It will be done."

…

I saw the group coming, and then it was clear to me that Arthur knew I was here. I could practically sense his footsteps nearing me, and the closer the group got, the more I searched for his face among them. However, he was not in that group at all when they got close enough. Where was he…?

Before I could take a breath, my leader shouted a command to his men, and they began to charge, telling me that I must do the same. I pushed against the ground with all of my force, and took out my sword, running straight into the chaos. However, I was not fighting, but looking for Arthur. "Arthur!" I called out, my emerald eyes darting to every spot in my sight. "Arthur! Arthu-"

The wind was abruptly knocked out my lungs, and I was sent sprawling onto the wet grass. Someone had tackled me down, and now we were slipping into one of the ditches of this new construction site of the wall. "Oi, get the fuck off o' me ye cheeky bastard!"

"Not before I rip you to shreds, Caledonia!" The unknown person growled, wrestling me until we got to the bottom of the hill. Their face was covered by a green-hooded cloak, which looked familiar. _"Secumbes! Caudex! Furcifer!"_

They got me to the ground and on my back, straddling me to keep me down while they held their dagger to my neck. "Oi, uncover yer face, arsehole."

 _"Cur? Scis quid sum!"_ He growled, taking their dagger and slashing it across my chest swiftly. I yelped from the sudden pain, knowing that would leave a scar and that it would bleed terribly.

"Speak my language, ye' tosser!" I spat, using the moment to switch our positions and take his knife, my blood dripping down onto their dark green cloak. In this moment, I realised that this person was much smaller than I originally assumed, and I quickly pulled their hood away.

But when I did so, I was met with the worst pain in my heart imaginable.

There, right before my eyes, was my dear little brother. The one that I missed so much… the one I hadn't seen since that day so long ago.

"A-Artie?" I asked, the rain from the sky still pelting down. It rolled off my back and into the mud under our feet, and the young man looked at me with fear and hesitance in his eyes. "W-Why are ye' doin' this?" I asked quietly, my voice trembling. While I awaited his response, I noticed how much he had grown, his hair cut short and his freckles seemed to have mostly faded. But damn, he still had those green eyes that gave me so much hope.

"G-Get off of me, Allistor…" He grumbled, trying to push me away to no avail. I wouldn't let him push me away again. "No! Artie, c'mon!" I begged, my chest wound stinging sharply and causing me to wince. "Please… we've missed you… come home…"

Rage filled his emerald orbs at those words, and Arthur pushed me off of him with no trouble. "I can't, Allie! I can't just come home! Damn it, I told you to go! To run away and never return!" He yelled at me, getting to his feet with his cloak still covering most of his thin and trembling body.

"Ah cannae just leave ye', Artie! That's ridiculous!"

"Don't you understand, Allistor?! Do you?!" He asked heatedly, eyes filling with tears. "You have to leave me! Otherwise you'll die like Mum… I can't kill you too…"

"Arthur…" I whispered, the thought of my sweet mother popping into my head. Her gentle words, her genuine smile… she was the loveliest woman we had ever known… "It was naw yer fault!"

"Yes it was! Yes it was!" The younger boy began to weep, falling to his knees before me and covering his face. "It was all my fault! I-If I would have been stronger… or faster… or smarter… or even bigger… I could have held off these Romans. I could have saved her… Mum is dead and it's all my fault…"

"Arthur… no… no no no…" I told him, kneeling next to him and hugging him gently, like I used to when we were younger. I remember those days like they were yesterday, and those days were so sweet and innocent, like I wish everything could be. "You were so small, lad. You were a wee one that was ganged up on by this massive empire… you couldn't have done anythin' more…"

He cried into my chest for a long time, but then he took his knife back out, putting it in my hand. "A-Allie… p-please, kill me…"

My eyes went wide, and I pushed him away to look him in the eyes. "Arthur, you're kiddin'! Ah'm naw gonna' kill my brother!"

"You have to! You have to, Allie! If you kill me then I won't be able to hurt you in the future because of this empire. If you kill me their British forts will fall. They will leave and you and all of the people of Albion can be safe again…" He sniffled, grabbing my hand that held his dagger and tried to put it at his neck, even drawing some blood from digging it into his skin. "I beg of you, Allie… I don't want to be under their control anymore. I want to die… everything is so terrible, and they hurt my people more and more every day, turning them into slaves and letting them go hungry while they build their bath-houses and forums and temples! I just want to die, and if I have to die, I want my big brother to kill me…" He requested, tears running down his still rounder cheeks while we locked eyes. "I'm begging you…"

The only things running through my head were memories— memories of the past, holding my wee brother and having fun with him. I remembered taking him to see Nessie, and eating tablet with him while we sat under a tree and watched a cricket hop along. Or how he would sit in my lap and mess around with the pendants around my neck, or when he would make little crowns with the help of his fairies for me, and I would make one for him. I even remembered how the little one would mess with my hair while I told him stories that blew his mind, and how we sung songs while he tried so hard to speak Gaelic. I never wanted those beautiful memories to be a painful past, nor did I want it to be the last remnants of our lives as brothers. "No, Artie. I can't." I told him, hugging him and tossing the dagger away. "One day, a long time from now, you'll understand why…"

Those were the last things I told him that day before I rushed out of the pit and into the woods. All I could hear was his desperate wailing for me to come back, and the farther away I got, the worse it felt when hearing it. He just wanted help, like any other child, but I didn't give it to him. I couldn't.

Though now, as I sit in a meeting room in the present day, watching him and how he acts so negative and sad, I cannot help but wonder if I made the right decision. After that day, everything had gotten so much worse, and he had gotten much more bitter, taking over lands including my own. I think that maybe he was just so angry of being conquered that he wanted to conquer things himself, and make a fool of the great Roman Empire which killed our lovely mother.

He did so elegantly and brutally, as history will always tell it, and no matter how badly he hurt me, I will always love him. He is my flesh and blood, my brother I care for so much. I cannot and will not ever give him up, nor will I give up my other brothers.

Though, sometimes being a good big brother may be the hardest thing in the world.

* * *

 _Arthurus_ : This is just Arthur put into a Latin orthography. The 'th' sounds like a 't', so this would be "Are-too-ruhs"

 _"Furcifer... Caledonia! Est Caledonia, meus dominus."_ : Latin- Scoundrel... Scotland! It is Scotland, my master.

 _"Sunt Caledonia et virum eorum."_ : **Latin-** It is Scotland and his men.

 _"Secumbes! Caudex! Furcifer!"_ : **Latin-** Surrender! Dickhead! Scoundrel!

 _"Cur? Scis quid sum!"_ : **Latin-** Why? You know who I am!


End file.
